Enjoy the Little Things
by OptimisticTheory
Summary: First DA2 fanfic. F!HawkexFenris, Smut is inevitable. Complete. A little dabble in the daily life in Kirkwall.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Tantalizing Devil

How could one woman be so infuriating, maddening even, one moment, for the next to be so deliciously tempting and luring? It made no sense, but then again, when she was dancing those luscious wide hips in tight eights, and somehow manage to not falter in energy or balance, even after the sixth mug of ale, it didn't seem to matter. It made no sense, that after a day of slaying filthy slavers, or cleaning out a blood mage hideout, as soon as she set a foot inside the Hanged Man, or inside one of her misfit friend's home, even sometimes when she just stepped inside the city walls, she smiled and laughed and drank all her heart could carry with it. Or maybe it was just him that made no sense..

Fenris sat nursing a mug of would-be wine, the Hanged Man not ever being a winery, at the table in the corner, staring rather intently into the purple-ish slosh. He did not dare look up, of fear of not being able to look away again. To his right sat Varric, swinging his half-full pint of ale merrily to the beat of a bodhrán, played by one of the Dalish elves from the Alienage. It seemed Merrill was only one of many to leave the Dalish for the city-life, however Merrill's reasons seemed to be hers alone. She herself were playing the flute, and Fenris would never admit it openly, but she had quite a talent for it. Even though the two female elves were playing Dalish tunes, the man-child, who tried to woo Isabela every other night with bad limerick and awful poetry, was playing the fiddle rather impressively, and even when improvised to fit the Dalish folk music, it rang rather beautifully throughout the tavern.

But as if that wasn't enough as entertainment for the evening, all eyes were drawn to the center of the room, hypnotized being the word springing to mind. Men were leering, licking their lips, smirking at the scene before them, whilst the women of the tavern, patrons and wenches alike, were more in a love-hate situation.

Given her current status in Hightown and her well-known accomplishments, anyone would insist that Isabela was the one to drag her out and up on that table, possible under the influence of stale ale or whiskey. But truth be told, anyone who knew her, really _knew_ her, knew that is was more likely the other way around. Never had Fenris met a person so full of life and joy and something he could only word as spirit, even when the word faded in comparison to what is was that she possessed. Not only was she a formidable warrior, no one even up to her socks when it came to dual-handed combat, but a woman with equal wit and passion had never seen the sun. And sex appeal, _oh god, _the sex appeal. One of the reasons Fenris still tried to stare intently into his drink, afraid that if he looked now, he'd never be able to look at anything else.

Varric laughed heartily, almost making him peek up. He huffed and turned his head left to avoid looking at the two dancing and twirling bodies being the center of attention. It wasn't the first time this had happened, it was actually becoming something of a happening at the Hanged Man, frequently drawing people from all over Kirkwall to the tavern a couple of nights a week now, both women never failed to satisfy the crowds.

As he turned his head, his gaze came upon Anders, who was also sipping a pint of ale. But unlike his own eyes, Anders' eyes were fixed on the two table dancers, and he smirked as he brought the mug to his lips. Fenris scowled briefly, Anders too transfixed to notice. Across from him sat Aveline and Sebastian, now with their sides turned, to watch and be amused. He noticed how neither of them bore any signs of disgust or displeasure in seeing their dear friend belly-dance her way around a dipping Isabela, amusement and goodhearted grins plastered on their faces as both took a sip of wine.

Anders sputtered and snickered, running the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping the ale that fell from it, and Fenris could not take it any longer. He slowly lifted his head, partially hiding behind his mug and finally laid eyes on the offending pair.

His eyes widened as his eyebrows disappeared into his ivory hair, and he nearly choked on a mouthful of wine.

_By Andrastes dirty knickers.._

Isabela and Hawke were rubbing against each other in a most seducing manner, and he was almost astounded that Hawkes bosom wasn't smothered by Isabelas impressive rack, making an equally arousing appearance smushed up against the pirate. They were so close, seemingly glued together by their cheeks, breasts and stomachs, whilst the inch shorter Hawke had a leg between Isabelas thighs for balance. Both were grabbing their counterparts ass and pouted their lips in a provocatively lustful way. They moved as one wave, with equal skill and precision, to the dark tones of the Dalish tune. The sweat glistened on their taut, flexing bodies and Fenris felt his mouth run dry. As the music moved towards the end, their movements slowed to a tantalizing slow rhythm and as Merrill gave the final notes with the flute, they dipped backwards to an impossible angel, clashing their hips together, both arms waving slowly over them as their hair touched the table.

The tavern exploded in cat-calls and wolf-whisles and clapping as the ladies held the pose for a good moment before returning upright with grins stretching across their faces. Hawke took Isabelas hand and they bowed twice before hopping off of the table. Fenris watched as Hawkes breasts bounced.

"I'm afraid that's all for the evening folks! Time to get me some ale! Corff, bring our table a pitcher of your finest!" Hawke hollered at the bartender with a wide smile over the last of the shouts from various satisfied patrons.

Isabela took her by the arm and pecked her on the cheek, "Sweetie, I love those hips of yours more and more by the day". They waltzed to the table. Isabela sat herself next to Varric and wiped her brow with her hand.

"Likewise Isabela, likewise. I'm enjoying this more than I ever should".

"Well, that can be said for most of us, my dearest Hawke, one way or another" Varric chirped in, smirking at her and gulped down the rest of his drink, "some more than others, eh elf?". He nudged Fenris with his elbow and burst out laughing when the elf huffed and looked down, sputtering something similar to "I don't know what you're on about" and cursing quietly in Tevinter. Truth be told, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her until Varric had jabbed him.

He glanced briefly at her as she stretched beside Aveline, who were now facing the table again, sipping her wine.

She was wearing her favorite boots, the ones that were very similar to Isabelas. She had loved them since the day she had met the pirate queen, and not long after Fenris made her aquaintance, had she somehow acquired a pair of her own and had been wearing them ever since. With them going all the way up to her mid thigh, she had to wear something short as to not disturb the whole look. And she was. Wearing something short. Very short. Impossible short leather shorts to be exact. A soft light brown they were, matched with a wide belt with many pockets that Fenris only assumed were filled with poisons and smoke bombs. Her dagger holsters were empty, the deadly weapons being taken care of by the guard captain, so she didn't accidentally stab Isabela to death during their devilish devil dance. True to her apparent love of pirate fashion, she had on a plain white, bell-sleeved cotton top off her shoulders and a crimson corset, which complimented her heaving bosom quite a lot.

He carefully slid his eyes over her body, taking in the sight as a warmth settled in his belly. As his gaze lifted up her body he caught her eyes, smirking back at him, he quickly averted his stare down into the almost empty mug, embarressed for getting caught staring.

"Varric you dog!" she exclaimed with fake surprise. She slandered around the table and stood between Anders and himself. He froze, not able to comprehend her closeness at the moment, the warmth in his belly turning into a slow-burning fire. "Don' worry 'bout it, love", she bent down and purred in his ear, then licked his earlobe slowly. He flinched slightly, the sensation tingling down his spine and bringing memories of that faithful night they shared some months ago to mind. He ground his teeth as he also remembered how he had been a complete coward and left her in the dead of night.

She settled herself on Anders' lap and giggled as he made a remark about her smelling like the Blooming Rose, all sweat and alcohol. The rest of the table engaged in idle conversation, completely ignoring Hawkes flirty ways. Hell, they didn't even notice anymore, it came with being her friend. She wasn't one to shy away from the touch of a friend, no matter how intimate, more likely to enjoy and return it, as was in her nature. If she didn't approve, she'd let you know. Violently so.

A spark of jealousy and anger knotted in his chest as he heard her giggle and Anders chuckle, as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Excusing himself with the need of fresh air, he rose abrutly from his chair and stalked out the door. Aveline and Merrill bid him goodnight as the rest of the table were otherwise occupied.

Hawke relished in his warmth as she buried her face in his neck. He smelled of herbs and magic, the same way Bethany smelled of flowers and magic, and her father had smelled like freshly chopped wood and magic. It made her nose tingle when they were close.

* * *

><p>"Mmmmh, you smell nice, you know that?" she murmured, the hums tickling his skin and he laughed.<p>

"Yes, well, you did tell me the same thing yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. I think you get my drift" he smiled and brought his arms around her, hugging her tightly. He placed a kiss on top of her hair and proceeded scooted her off of his lap as the waitress, Norah, brought over a pitcher of ale. He filled her mug first, then his own. Grimacing after his first sip, he watched in almost disbelief as Hawke gulped down the lukewarm beverage in a few mouthfuls. When she had lapped the last drops in her, she stood, readjusted her belt and kissed Anders' cheek before sauntered towards the door.

"Temps! Don't forget these!" Aveline shouted, throwing the daggers she was care-taking towards the rogue's disappearing frame. Hawke expertly caught them and spun them into their holsters. "Although, I'm not sure what good they'll do you in your current condition", the red head smirked and earned a "Bahah, you're _so_ funny!" in return, before turning back to her discussion with Sebastian.

She shut the door behind her and closed her eyes for a second, breathing in the chilly night air, only vaguely smelling the piss and dirt. Skimming the area, she saw a crouched figure a few yards away, back against the wall, scrapping a gauntlet finger in the dirt. She sighed and started towards him.

* * *

><p>The cold air wasn't doing anything for his racing mind. He kept getting flashbacks of burgundy hair and pale, luscious lips, so fresh in his memory he could almost feel her soft skin against his. He closed his eyes and breathed sharply through his nose. The scent of sweet peaches, that somehow eminated from her skin, reached him and for a moment he thought he was dreaming again. Then he heard the Hanged Man's door shutting with a <em>thud<em> and he knew she was there. A few taps of her boots' heels and he felt her couch beside him. "Whatcha doin'?", she leaned in slightly, touching her arm to his.

He looked down in the dirt and saw that he had, absentmindedly, etched a crude outline of a long feather, thick stripes lined its sides.

"Nothing...", he muttered and slowly, as to not stir her, wiped dirt over the etching, hoping she hadn't seen it.

For a few seconds she didn't say anything, Fenris could hear her breathing slowly and deeply, somehow scooting closer and closer to him. "I didn't know you were an artist Fenris", she said finally, lightly pulling his hand away so she could see the etching, although is was almost gone in the dirt now. She leaned her head on his shoulder and out of the corner of his eye he could see her smiling. His cheeks flushed, and he hung his head, hoping she didn't notice that either.

"I'm not... it, its just something I taught myself when I was still in Danarius'... service". Many a nights when Danarius had had guests or simply had just left him alone, Fenris would picture himself the world, not as he saw it, but more like what he wanted to see. He had started small, drawing simple figures on the floor under the carpet where he slept, taking coal from the fireplace. Birds, fruit, nature. Things he had seen traveling with his former master. Steadily he became rather good. One day though, there hadn't been anymore hidden spaces he could draw on, so he dared to take piece of parchment when Danarius wasn't looking. But nothing escaped Danarius' dead bead eyes, and one day he found Fenris' drawings. But instead of punishing him, severely anyway, he had smiled, coldly, and instead allowed Fenris to keep a single pencil and provided him with parchment to draw on. He treated it as just another thing he could brag about to his magister _"friends"_, but to the elf, who had not owned a single thing for at long as he could remember, not even the clothes on his back, it meant a great deal. It became his escape, something to keep him going.

"Do you draw much?" she asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. Her voice wasn't as slurred as one might think given her previous alcohol consumption, but he could hear the kindness in her voice.

"No, well.. sometimes. Not as much anymore. I don't have as much freetime now, with following you into certain danger all the time" he stated, finally gathering his wits and giving her a smug smirk.

She chuckled, "Yeah, well, you asked for it mister. Besides, we make a perfect team, you beheading and cutting villains in half while I prance around and stab them all in the back!". She made a couple of stab motions with her free hand and grinned back at him, "You know you love it".

He stood up and brushed off his knees, "Indeed, never did I think I'd be able to fight along side one as skilled as yourself, my lady". He offered her a hand and smiled at her. Her face lit up with a genuine smile and she took his hand, allowing him to drag her up standing again. But the devious alcohol chose that moment to react and trip Hawke, making her fall against his chest, pushing him up against the wall.

She groaned, "By the Maker, my head". She blinked a few times, trying to get the world to stop spinning, "Are you okay?". He looked into her honey colored eyes and his breath caught in his throat. She panted lightly, fanning his face with a warm, ale-smelly breeze.

"I'm.. fine...", he whispered, loosening his grip on her upper arms, not quite letting go, so she didn't tip over or something. She groggily smiled up at him and touched their nosed together. Learning forward, she pressed her body into his, resting her hands on his chest. Her lips brushed like a feather over his and they shared a breath.

"Hawke," he breathed, his eyelids halfway closed, "we shouldn't.. this is.. I'm-".

"Shh, Fenris", she purred his name in a sweet whisper.

She kissed him then, closed her eyes and pressed her lips delicately on his, waiting for him to respond.

Her warmth transferred to his own body, and the velvety touch of her lips were too much. His eyes slid closed as he moved his hands from her arms to her ribcage and kissed her back. She moaned into his mouth and slowly, but sensually slid her tongue into his mouth, challenging his. His own darted out to meet her and he pushed his face forward, pressing their lips tighter together.

Eventually they had to break apart for air, and panting, he leaned his forehead against hers.

"I, I thought that.. you and.. and.." he panted, feeling that ol' twitch of jealousy and confusion in the pit of his stomach just by thinking it.

"Anders? No... No, Fenris.. he just... he was there you know, when.. when", she started, licking her lips, "but, no. Just, no."

"I thought you hated me, or, at least had forgotten about that night. You never.. you never conveyed anything. You seemed.. Happy". He began to turn his head away, unable to look her in the eye, but she brought up her hand and forced him to. Her bright yellowy eyes were direct windows to her soul then, holding a deep affection and passion, one he hadn't been able to see since that night.

She smiled at him, "You know me Fenris, taking pleasure in the little things. But I never forgot you.. your touch... your eyes", she caressed his cheekbone and kissed him, "or your lips".

He savored the touch of her, savored the smell and the feel, not knowing when he'd come to experience it again. Clutching her close to his frame, he nuzzled his lips to her neck, breathing in the scent of her smooth hair. A faint scent of embrium, a soap she'd come to like, supplied by her favorite elven merchant in the Hightown markets.

"You deserve better Temperance, better than what I have to offer", he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Why don't you let me decide whats best for me", she bit his bottom lip, "and you decide what you want from this. From me", she moved down, nudged his jaw up with her nose and harshly bit his neck. Pain turned to pleasure as she released his flesh and proceeded to lick and suckle on the tender spot. He groaned and shivered, and dug his gauntlets into her hips, grinding them against his. She let out a throaty moan, the sound driving him crazy. Licking a slick trail up his jugular, she traced his jaw before gently biting his earlobe.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, she pushed away from him, sliding her hand down his throat and chest as she walked away, "Decide what _you_ want Fenris". She stopped, her hand on the door to the tavern, "you already know what I want". She sent him a gaze full of emotion, hurt, lust, desire, joy, amusement and love, a gaping chasm in her soul that she let no one else see, and he choked. Then she was gone. The door shut with a familiar _thud_, and it took him several minutes to gather his thoughts.

What did he want? Freedom? Peace?

Love?

He wanted her, that was one thing he could put a finger on. But for what? To quench his desires? To be with him forever? His body ached to feel her again, to move within her and hear her moan his name. Another part of him wanted to hold her close and whisper sweet nothings in her ear, shelter her from the unmerciful world, and be the one she'd confide in.

Tonight though, that wasn't about to happen. He held his head, feeling the beginning of a terrible headache, both from his conflicting feelings and the wine finally taking a toll on his body. He groaned, unsatisfied, starting the long stride home.

_Makers breath... a cold bath it is._


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your comments/reviews, they are much appreciated :]

* * *

><p>Chapter Two<p>

Heartbroke Confession

He finished off the letter, another one in a long line of letters written in his efforts to try and contact his long lost sister. He grew more and more agitated every time he received a new letter, forwarding him to another magister, another politician, telling him that Varania no longer served there, and blah blah blah.

Then he went to mail it, briefly bickering with a confused postal-apprentice, who couldn't understand simple orders, Fenris thought, hoping that this time would be the last. Heading back from the docks he stopped by the Hanged Man, hoping to see a few friendly faces. The sun were setting as he set foot in the beloved tavern. Blinking a few times to adjust his eyes to the dim light, he skimmed the room for persons of interest.

Isabela was at the bar waiting for what seemed a rather large order, two pitchers by her side, still waiting for more, all the while trying to fend off an unwanted suitor, a wee lad controlled by his hormones. Fenris smirked as he caught her eye, a pleading look to them. He laughed lightly and ignoring her pleads for rescue, he walked up the stairs towards Varrics cozy suite.

Stopping shortly at the door, he knocked on the frame twice with his knuckle, seeing the dwarf sit with a thick, wood-backed book in the dwarven-carved stone chair on the far side of the table, that stood in the center of his living space. Varric gazed up briefly, smiling at him "Ah, elf! Come on in!". He gestured to another chair and Fenris obeyed. Settling himself comfortably into his seat, he tried to find a somewhat clean goblet among the dusins that littered the dwarfs table, most empty. "I thought you an organised persona, Varric. Who stormed your quarters?" he enquired, finally finding a relatively clean goblet.

"Oh-hoh! We're by our wits today, are we?" Varric smirked, shutting his heavy book close with a _thump_, setting it aside. "Well, if you must know, a wizard did it... with the help of a pirate". Varric seemed amused by the thought. "Blondie had a drinking match with Isabela last night, thinking he could magically avoid being out-drunk by a skimpy gal" he grinned, "he could not. And I'm not cleaning this mess up mind you".

Fenris nodded understandingly. He produced a bottle of finer wine from his satchel, "I see". He held up the bottle, "care to join me?"

"Ah, splendid. Fill 'er up elf", Varric flinged a clay chalice at him. He caught it barely, his hands more used to the weight and steady speed of a great sword. He poured wine into it and stretched far to his left, setting the chalice within Varrics reach. Then he poured himself a glass and took a long swig.

"Aaah, good stuff. So, what brings you here? I doubt it'll be the fine women, eh?" Varric took another sip and smirked at him, "You seem to have the finest within your reach already".

Fenris glared at him, "What is it you think you know, dwarf?". He downed the wine in one swig and poured another glass, almost dreading the answer.

Varric took a long, calculated look at him, weighing his words with careful precision. He took another swig of wine. The elf always did bring the good stuff.

"I care for Hawke, Fenris. She's possible the finest woman I've ever had the fortune of meeting", he paused, "All I'm trying to say is... Be careful. I'd rather not put a bolt through your skull for breaking her heart again".

Breaking her heart? Again? Those were the last words Fenris thought would spill over Varrics lips. She never showed any sign of heart break, or any other emotion related. After their little fling, he'd felt so rotten he tried to drink himself into oblivion for almost a week, not leaving his mansion. He remembered that Varric had stopped by, but could not remember what he wanted, probably having blacked the whole day out in his rather sloshed state. The next time he'd seen her, she seemed... fine. Cheery and upbeat as always. Though, there had been times since that he had caught her holding a eerie blank stare into nothing, but she'd been so quick to recover, he'd thought nothing of it.

"Hello, elf? I said, I can see you have no idea what I'm on about, huh?", the voice brought him out of his intense speculations.

"No... I... I never thought she cared..." he said quietly, staring at the fire blazing in the hearth in front of him.

"You know, I went to see her the day after your... you know", he leaned forward, as if the next few utterings would kill him if anybody else heard it, "she was crying the color out of her eyes you know. She's didn't cry like that when Carver was massacred by that ogre, neither when they'd taken Bethany to the Gallows". He leaned back and took a drink of wine, giving Fenris time to digest his words.

"She.. what?", he couldn't quite comprehend the audacity of Varrics confession. His heart ached at the thought of her crying, sitting alone on her bed, her whimpers twisting knots in his gut. He'd been there once, more than enough to last him a lifetime, when her mother was taken from her. He'd held her when she cried, putting aside his feelings for her to be a good friend and comfort her, kissing her forehead when she finally found rest.

"It's true. She locked herself in her mansion for 4 days straight, barely eating anything", Isabelas voice came from the doorway. She was leaning on the frame with 3 pitchers in each hand, a peculiar somber look on her dark face Fenris hadn't ever thought she could administer, "she only cried like that when Leandra died".

She walked forward and sat the pitchers down, only spilling slightly, before pouring herself a mug of ale and settling into a chair next to Varric, "you must have been a real good shag, handsome". The usual smirk returned to her face and she sipped the ale.

Fenris growled lowly, but she continued anyway, "good thing Anders was there to keep her warm and safe, with those master hands of his... Mmh, holding her lithe body close and brushing away her hair from her big doe eyes, looking up at him with a profound tenderness", she spoke in a low, seducing voice, and licked her lips. She always was the tease.

His brows furrowed, "I'm sorry, what? That.. _thing_ was with her for 4 days?". Gods know he never held anything similar to fondness when it came to that mage, but this intense hatred he felt, it was an all time high for him. Isabelas acute imagery was putting unwanted pictures in his head.

Varric let out a frustrated sigh, "Good work Rivaini. Yes, Fenris, Anders was _also_ there to comfort her, _but, _the truth is much less... exciting from what blabbermouth here paints it to be".

The comment quenched some of his flaring anger. At least they didn't... she'd told him the truth. He should have been the one to be there, to wipe away her tears and hold her close to him when she had needed someone there. But instead, he had been the one to cause the heartbreak, the pain, the hurt. He felt rotten again.

"Not to pounce all over your imaginary world, I'm sure its lovely and all, but the rest of the gang is coming over in a wee bit", Isabela stated, taking a good swig of ale.

"Not that you're not welcome to stay elf!", Varric continued with a small smile, "I know you have some serious thinking to do, but.. It seems to brighten her day whenever you around. She told me so herself... or, the letter to Bethany did", he grinned and held his chalice up in a cheer before drinking the last of its contents.

He hadn't really had a chance to just be with her since she pulled that little trick on him almost a fortnight ago. And he wasn't even done thinking yet. But maybe seeing her would jock his inner thought process enough to finally make something congruent to a decision. So he stayed, pouring yet another glass of wine, emptying the bottle he'd brought. He was feeling a little lightheaded, having downed the satisfyingly strong wine within a short amount of time.

* * *

><p>"Come on Aveline! You <em>have<em> to tell _me_, I'm your best friend, am I not?", she pouted her lips and gave the red head the best puppy-eyes she could muster.

"I am not giving you the details of our honeymoon! And forget trying to run to Donnic and get him to talk, I already made him swear on our marriage. Don't give me that face!"

Sebastian laughed loudly as a ridiculous scene took place before him. Hawke tried to get Aveline to look at her puppy eyes, convinced that if she just looked long enough, she'd give in and spill the beans. Aveline, kind of thinking the same thing, avoided Hawkes face-advances by turning the other way, finally planting her hand in Hawkes face, pushing her away, smushing it all together.

"_Puh-lease_ Aveline! I'll... I'll buy you a new sword!", Aveline raised her eyebrow at her, "Okay, flowers then! Come onnnnn". She stomped her foot to the ground and Aveline couldn't hold a smile back as her friend looked a complete child.

"Oh grow up Temps, you'll just have to imagine the juicy details yourself". The little group rounded a corner and the Hanged Man came into view.

"Oh bugger..." Hawke pouted and crossed her arms over her chest as they walked towards the tavern.

"Don't look so down Hawke, I bet Isabela is ready to spin all sorts of saucy and risque tales when we reach Varrics" Sebastian tried to console her, padding her gently on her shoulder. She looked at him, fake sadness glazing over her eyes.

" 'Bastian, I need a pick-me-up" she bit her lower lip and brought her arms around her back so her chest pertruded forward.

He sighed in defeat and turned his back on her, bending his knees slightly. She squeeled with glee and jumped on him, wrapping her slender legs around his waist and held him by the shoulders. "Forward mighty steed!" she exclaimed, pointing at the door to the tavern.

Aveline walked in advance and opened the door, easing any extra labour on Sebastians part. He nodded to her thankfully, carrying the overjoyed and giggling Hawke over the threshold. When he went to set her down, letting go of her legs, thinking he'd done the deed, he felt her legs and arms tighten even more around his body to a point where she was holding up her own weight.

"You're not done, oh great stallion", she whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. He let out a frustrated breath, but did not take another hold on her legs. If she wanted more, she'd have to hold herself.

And so she did. With a little effort, mostly on Sebastians part, they made it up the stairs. When they came upon the door, which was a skew, the prince turned half a circle and took a few steps backwards, using Hawkes own back to push open the door. She _umpf_ed and cringed, not entirely ready for that particular use of her body. Aveline laughed at her and pushed the door to a near close when they'd entered the room.

"Greetings my fellow crackpots!" Hawke grinned, finally hopping off Sebastians back. She glanced around the room and found that all her friends were indeed gathered around the table.

"Hawke! Glad you could join us!" Varric exclaimed, opening his arm in greeting. She walked over and kissed him on the cheek, "Always my friend, never miss it". Her eye wandered to Fenris, sitting across the hearth and he looked up at her, giving her a sweet smile that tugged at her heart's strings. She smiled back and went to sit beside him.

"Merrill, could you pour me a mug'a ale sweetie?" she asked her elven friend, seeing as she was both close to Hawke and a pitcher of ale. Merrill smiled, poured her a mug full and handed it to her, "Here you go Hawke". Giving her thanks, she took a gulp and let out an "aah!".

"How _do_ you drink the piss they serve here with such pleasure?" Fenris said and took a sip of wine, now being down to drinking the Hanged Mans bitter stuff.

She thought for a moment, tilting her eyes towards the ceiling, before replying "Its an acquired taste", taking another swig. "How goes the search for your sister?"

"Annoyingly slow I'm afraid. I keep getting bounced back and forth, and I've already encountered several dead ends. Hopefully I mailed the last missive today" he sighed, frowning slightly.

"Hm, that sucks nug ass", she concured, making him smile again.

"Indeed it does" he gave her a fond gaze, making her smile in return, and a little butterfly fluttered its wings in his stomach.

* * *

><p>"Dance with me Fenris!" she laughed, prancing elvishly around him as he walked. Her loose, amethyst dress flowed around her long legs and her hair was no longer in a ponytail and would have reach her lower back, if it wasn't being carried by the soft night air. The delicate silver patterns on her black corset shimmered in the moonlight. Her feet were bare, Fenris being a gentleman carried the slippers that she'd chosen to wear this evening. A nice change of pace he thought, now entirely enjoying the pale, smooth skin of her slender walking limbs. She looked a demon in the lunar light, every inch of her designed to bring dirty desires down upon his body, twisting his mind around her pinky-finger.<p>

"Never in a million years" he teased, continuing to walk towards her estate, setting a leisurely pace.

"Oh you're no fun". She continued to dance around him, humming a dwarven drinking tune to herself.

"And you're drunk" he said, stating the obvious. She laughed and stopped dancing, instead she slid her arm into the crook of his elbow and leaned against him.

"Perhaps" she slurred, smiling and eyes half closed.

They reached her front door, knocked and waited a few moments, before the door was opened by Bodahn. "Ah, messere! Thank you, master Fenris, for bringing her home safely" the dwarf greeted them, bowing his head in respect.

"I need a word with Fenris, Bodahn, I'll be in in a moment" Hawke smiled at her dwarven friend, who nodded and dissappeared from the doorway. She stepped inside, turning to face him and leaned on the frame.

"So, home to the huge, cold, lonely mansion then?" she asked, holding her arms and Fenris noticed they were littered in goosebumps.

"Yes, that was the plan. Why, having something better in mind?" he smirked, not catching the underlying question in her enquiry.

She smiled and reached out a hand, grabbing hold of the metal plate of his armor, pulling him closer. He smelled like winter, she thought, crisp and fresh with a hint of pine tree. She reached up with her other hand and brushed away a stray piece of his snowy hair, "Maybe".

Finally catching on, a nervous look crossed his features, "Hawke, I-I don't think that's a good idea" he started, trying to let her down easy. Gods know he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her and explore her lithe body all over again, but in truth he was a coward, not wanting to relive his lost life and then not remember it.

"I miss you Fenris". She looked him straight in the eyes, her expression vulnerable and almost pleading, quiet desperation lurking behind her honey irises.

He watched her for a moment, then lowered his gaze to the ground. "I can't..."

"Please Fenris, I promise, I won't try anything, I'll.. I'll sleep in a chair, or on the floor, please... Just don't leave me alone", she was on the verge of tears now, but fought a valiant battle to keep them at bay.

His heart broke a little when he saw her lamentable expression, remembering what Varric had told him, never wanting to inflict such pain on her again, and his gaze softened, "You're not sleeping on the floor, you mad fool".

She looked at him at him questionably, cocking her head slightly to the side. He smiled, cupped her face with his hand, careful not to scratch her with the sharp gauntlet, and leaned in, kissing her jaw lightly. He then proceeded to turn her by the shoulders and push her gently inside, steering her with his hands, and kicked the door closed after them, letting her shoes fall to the mat on the left.

"Messere?" Bodahn looked confused at them, sitting in a chair, smoking a pipe while Sandal was playing with Moha on the floor by the fireplace. The mabari _arfed_ happily at them, overjoyed from receiving a belly-scratch.

"It's okay Bodahn" she smiled at him and let her body be guided to the stairs by Fenris, "See you in the morning".

He lead her up the stairs and into her chambers, shutting the door softly behind him. A crackling fire illuminated the room in a soft glow and he went to shut the curtains. Hawke, not sure what to do, a rare occurrence, stood by the bed-poster, biting her lower lip nervously. Fenris pulled the covers on her bed back and rummaged through her drawers, finally conjuring a light, white nightgown. He laid it on her bed and turned towards her.

"Come here" he said, and she shuffled to stand in front of him. He untied the laces of her corset, folded it and laid in on the floor. He then did the same with her dress and when she was in nothing but her small clothes, he turned her by the shoulders again, and unclasped her breastcloth. He flushed slightly, but proceeded with his task. He fetched the nightgown and pulled it over her head.

"Fenris.." she gasped at his hands caressed her hips briefly. He motioned for her to get in bed and she obeyed. Undressing, he folded his armor neatly and laid it beside hers. He felt her eyes on him, lapping every curve and tuned muscle of his lean fighters body. He smirked to himself.

He shooed her further towards the middle of the bed, got in himself and pulled the covers up to their hips. Acting on a natural instinct she scooted closer to him, clinging almost, draped her arm around his waist and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder.

"Thank you", she whispered.

He lifted her chin and kissed her soft lips, cupping her face, "don't mention it".

Even as his body ached for her, he felt completely satisfied this way, just breathing in her scent and feeling her warm body against his.

Sighing happily, she closed her eyes, relishing the feel his body had, and draped her leg over his. How she'd missed him. Just lying like this was enough, to be with him enough.

"I missed you" she smiled, tracing a lyrium swirl on his stomach with a finger.

He could feel her smile against his skin. He idlely ran a hand through her long hair, earned a series of delightful moans. He smiled, "go to sleep".

She sighed again and rested her hand on his chest, closing her eyes and gently felt her body relax completely as the Fade embraced her.

He kissed the top of her head, "I missed you too".


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** Fairly short chapter, but whatevz. Thank for the reviews, much obliged 3.

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Violent Realizations

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><p>"Are we there yet?" she yelled.<p>

"No" was the answer.

"Oh come on! Stupid mountain...". Isabela crossed her arms over her chest, looking less than satisfied. Her hair clinged to her face and her eyes were smudged with black as the rain poured down on them, relentless.

"Rivaini, if you stop your complaining now, I might let you run your fingers through my chesthair later", Varric smirked at the pirate, who seemed to lighten up slightly at the suggestion.

"Really? _Your_ chest-hair? Oh Varric, you really do know how to charm a girl", she grinned, uncrossing her arms and a little spring sneaked into her step. "But there better be treasure too!" she shouted at Hawke's back, a few yards ahead of the dwarf and herself.

"It's practically a really old graveyard, whaddaya think?" Hawke called over her shoulder, giving her friend a grin. She looked ahead, trying to spot Merrill, who was scouting ahead, seeing as she knew the safest paths around Sundermount. Her trained rogue eyes spotted a rustle in the high branches of a tree, far ahead, even through the heavy rain, and saw a partially bare foot. Good, she was still in sight.

"Tell me again why we are helping her with this?" Fenris let out a frustrated breath beside her. His leathers were soaked to the skin and his feet were muddied to the point of no recognition. It looked like the sludgy earth was reaching up, trying to swallow him.

She grunted, stepping onto the grass as the dirt path merged into a small river, "Because Merrill is my friend, Fenris, and I'd do anything for her. Besides, if it'll help the elves get a piece of lost history back, it's good enough for me".

"You do know she's a blood mage, right Hawke? I mean, come on, a blood mage!" Anders exclaimed from behind her, clutching his staff, using it as a walking stick.

"How could you possible think I don't know Anders, that's just insulting. But she's not like every other _malificarum_ we've met, is she? Besides, she was the Keeper's First, she should know what she's doing. All I know is she asked for my help, and I'm gladly giving it to her", she turned her head at looked at him with a smirk, "or, you can just walk all the way back to Kirkwall alone, if you don't want to help".

He squinted his eyes at her and shut up, focusing his strength on climbing the slippery mountain instead of arguing. But then he stopped suddenly.

"Whats tha matter Blondie, change your mind?" Varric asked, walking around the mage. He tossed his head back around to look at his friend and saw that Anders had his eyes closed. They snapped back open and a snarl found a way to his face.

"Ready yourselves!" he howled as he took a fighting stance. Varric quickly pulled Bianca from his back and Isabela already had a firm grasp on her twin daggers despite the rain.

Right as Hawke was reaching for her own blades Merrill came sprinting into view. Fenris gripped his great sword, a bad feeling twirling in his gut.

"DARKSPAWN!" was the only thing Merrill was able to shout out before a huge flock of darkspawn came into view behind her. Thinking fast, Hawke pulled out a smoke bomb, throwing it as far as she could into the midst of the herd, hopefully disorienting the sons of bitches. The crackling of lightning sounded through the air and several of the spawn were electrocuted as Anders channeled powerful magic from his staff and more were knocked to the ground as Merrill hurled large chunks of earth through the air.

A great roar filled the area and the earth trembled slightly as a towering ogre entered the battlefield. The air was sucked out of Hawke lungs as a familliar fear settled itself on her face. She hadn't had the unfortune of meeting another ogre since the day Carver was taking from them, and the sight of the terrifying creature made her hesitate.

Soon they were almost overrun by hurlocks, but she knew her companions were skilled fighters and having two mages at their side considerable heightened their odds. She went to face the ogre, swallowing her fears and gripping her blades with new fury. This was what she did, fight. And she was darn good at it.

The large beast went to pick up a boulder and attempted to throw it at her as it saw her approaching. But it halted and dropped the boulder as a thick blanket of bolts rained down upon it. It grunted loudly and brought its arms over its head, trying to shield it self. Unfortunately the beast's skin was too thick for Bianca's bolts to do any real damage, but as it covered, Hawke used the opportunity to get closer and she snug around it using the shadows of the mountain and trees as cover, aware of the terrible battle conditions and that any wrong move would result in slipping, followed by what would only be a horrible death.

When the rain of arrows stopped the ogre shook its body and looked around, trying to spot its target. Her teeth barred like a wild animal, she lunged forward and buried both her daggers into its calf, twisting them and jerked them back out. As the beast howled in pain and kicked back with its injured leg, she spun away from the blow and sliced into its other leg, leaving deep lacerations in her wake. It fell to its knees with another howl and she used the opportunity to spring on its back. It fumbled its huge fists around its head, trying to grab her desperately. She evaded, using its curled horns to hold on to as it tossed and turned its head.

Putting one of the daggers in her mouth, she pulled another smoke bomb out and threw it hard against its forehead, shattering the shell and smoke almost clung to the wetness of its face. It was distracted for a moment, the moment she needed to seize her daggers once more, rubbing its hands furiously over its face to clear the smog from its eyes. Dumb creature.

She let out a great battlecry as she brought her arms above her head and striked down on the ogre's neck with ferocious might. The sharp blades slid in almost effortlessly, sinking in to the hilt. Its cries were gurgled as blood flooded from its mouth and for a moment the battle seemed over. But with the last of its strength it grabbed her by the waist as she had let down her guard, thinking it to be done. She grasped for her daggers but missed them by a hair as the ogre brought her down to its face to look at her. It snarled, gurgling blood, and fear found its way back into her eyes.

It swung its arm and flung her far up into the air, tossing her a good twenty yards. She saw it become smaller and fall to the ground, dead, as she moved further away, hair twirling around her face. Everything seemed to slow down then, she saw Varrics bolts expertly find their target, Isabela twirling with a familiar contortion of her limbs and magic smelled in the air, making her nose tingle. She saw Fenris swing his mighty sword, cleaving the heads clean of his enemies or driving it straight through them. She smiled and thought of his snowy hair and how it felt to run her fingers through it.

A awful _crack_ rang in the air as the wide trunk of a tree found it self in her path and her whole body snapped back. And even as her eyes were wide open, all she saw was darkness. She slid to the ground with a _thump_ and pain exploded everywhere, so excruciating she couldn't pinpoint its origin. Her lunges burned from lack of oxygen, but she felt a fine line of blood trickle from her lips as she tried, and failed, to take a shallow breath. She couldn't move, she couldn't breath. _This must be it_, she thought,_ the end_. Her eyes rolled back into her head as consciousness slipped from her grasp.

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><p>Their numbers were quickly diminishing. Good. He sliced through two hurlocks and raised his arms to bring the sword down on the third. He heard a subtle crack of tree splitting and he took a moment to screen the battlefield. Varric and Anders were taking down the last of the monsters and Isabela were already looting, "Bah, hurlocks have the worst stuff" she mumbled, Fenris only barely hearing her. He saw the ogre laid dead, a great gash oozing blood from its neck to form a little pool around its head. He saw something shiny in its hand and took a step forward before realizing it was one of Hawkes daggers. It must have pulled it out in the last seconds of its life, a fool action.<p>

When he did not see Hawke retriving her prized possesions, that same ol' gut feeling that something was entirely wrong settled in him. He frantically skimmed the field, finally laying eyes on her broken form slumped at the bottom of a tall tree. His mind went blank as he set of into a sprint.

_Oh Maker, please, please, let her be..._

Varric and Anders lifted their head as he ran past them, wondering what the fiddle was going on. Their eyes followed his destined path and their hearts skipped a beat.

"Maker, no..." Anders uttered, paralyzed to the ground where he stood. Varric was the first to come back to his senses and he swiftly followed after Fenris, Anders a second behind.

He collapsed at her side and reach out his hands to gather her to him, but stopped as he didn't want to hurt her further. Her shoulder looked awfully wrong and twisted away from her body, her corresponding leg the same. He cradled her head in his lap and found that her hair was soaked in rain and blood alike. Her lips were painted crimson.

Anders kneeled on her other side, ripping the front of her leather armor open with a small herbal-knife to assess the damage. Large bruises were already forming around her ribs, and Fenris imagined she'd probably broken quite a few, which may mean a punctured lung. The mage called forth a healing blue glow to his hands as he ran them along her torn form, desperation clawed at his face as he noticed she wasn't responding.

"Come on Hawke, stay with us" Anders murmured, and his skin cracked with veins of azure shimmer as the spirit in him joined the fight, increasing the intensity of the blue light.

Fenris felt his eyes burn, but didn't take them off her for a second. A tear or two made their way down his face and he was slightly grateful that it was still raining. He didn't want to let her go, not like this, not having told her how he felt. Spirits, how could he have been so stupid, such a coward not to realize what had been there for so long. He didn't want to lose her, he wanted her in his life, no matter how much frustration and hardship she brought with her. Just to see her smile again, to press his lips to hers... He held back a sob, holding his breath instead.

_Please..._

Her body gave a small jerk and his heart almost jumped out of his ribcage. Anders doubled his efforts, straining himself further. Finally her chest lifted as air found its way back into her lungs. She remained unconscious.

"I've healed the internal bleeding, her broken spinal cord and her punctured lung. We have to get her back to Kirkwall now, but she'll live" Anders looked at him, almost in disbelief. He sat back against the tree trunk, exhausted. Isabela let out a relieved sigh as she held unto Merrill, who was no longer crying tears of sorrow but of joy.

Fenris carefully picked her up, holding her close. She seemed so tiny and fragile as she laid in his arms. He set a brisk pace back towards the city of chains, determinded to get there soon. He gulped down the lump in his throat.

_I won't let you go. Not ever again._

They didn't retrieve Merrill's artifact. That day.


	4. Chapter 4

Smut! Ye've been warned. Enjoy, and as always, reviews and comment are much appreciated :]

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

Possessive Rapture

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><p><em>Ugh<em>, she thought as she finally gained consciousness again, _I feel like... like a bronto stomped on me_...

Letting out a small groan, she started opening her eyes. The room was dimmed, but the sudden use of her sleep-thickened optics hurt slightly. Blinking furiously, she overcame the slight pain and squinted at her surroundings.

She realised she was lying comfortably in her own bed, the hearth casting the warm glow of flames around the room, the curtains drawn from the window to reveal a ripe full moon high in the starry night sky over Kirkwall.

_Mmh, pretty_. She smacked her tongue a few times, trying to get rid of the awful taste that lingered there after many hours of sleep. _Wait, how'd I get here...?_

Slowly, the events of the fight dawned to her, and fear tugged at her mind. She stretched her legs and wiggled her toes under the covers, _oh joy, I'm not paralyzed_. A small smiled tucked at the corner of her mouth as she also stretched and bend her fingers and brought her arms on top of the covers.

A head of snowy hair caught her eye. She turned lazily and saw Fenris sitting in a chair, resting his arms and head on the bed, sleeping. Another smile found its way to her lips. She went to sit up against the headboard, silently so as to not wake the slumbering elf, but had to stop in her intentions as she winched and hissed as her back jolted with pain and her head started spinning. She stopped and glanced at Fenris, hoping to not have woken him. To her relief he hadn't moved a muscle. She sighed and closed her eyes to help overcome the throbs her back threw at her, and tried to sit up again, slower this time. She made it half way before she felt a hand grasp her wrist.

Jerking her head up she saw Fenris giving her a tender stare. She must have made more noise than she thought. Some rogue she was.

Without a word, he helped her up and propped a few pillows between her and the headboard, making it more comfortable for her.

"Thank you" she said in a raspy voice as she rested against the soft cushions. The throbbing pain became an annoying ache, to a point were it was almost bearable.

Hearing her dry voice, he immediately fetched a glass of water that stood ready nearby, handing it to her and making sure she got most of it down.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as she handed him back the glass.

"Mmh, not yet, I think" she mused for a second, trying to get a feel on her stomach. She looked at him, her eyes dark in the dim light, "How's.. everything...?", she made a slight gesture at her body. He sat back down in the chair he'd used to sleep in.

"You're going to be fine. You... you had a couple of broken ribs and a punctured lung, several ruptured organs and.. and fractured vertebrae, a broken back..." he turned to stare intently into the fire, "you would have died, if it wasn't for that... mage".

"I'll remember to thank Anders for saving my butt then", she mumbled and winched as her back shot a pang of pain through her again, "son of a nug-humper".

"Are you okay?" came Fenris' worried voice as he faced her again, the concern in his eyes evident. She smiled the best she could at him, "Yeah, I'll be fine... later".

He took her hand in his and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles, "I.. I thought", the words hitched in his throat just thinking about what could've been, sending a silent thank you towards the skies. He gazed into her amber eyes and a wave of emotion hit him, "I thought I lost you".

It was little more than a whisper, but it rang clear in her head and she smiled, a big heartwarming smile, "But you didn't. I'm right here" she squeezed his hand, "and I always will be".

"I don't know what I'd do without you, I realize that now. I can't stand the thought of being away from you, you... you've infected my life, buried your roots so deep, its impossible for me to separate myself from you. But I'm not sure I want that, anymore, because I... I... I've come to care for you" he confessed, searching her face.

"I finally charmed you, did I" she teased as the mischievious glimmer in her eye returned.

He smiled lightly and sat beside her on the bed. He was very careful not to bring too much movement with him, to not hurt her back, and pressed his lips to hers for a second.

"Insufferable wench" he smirked and twirled her burgundy hair around his fingers.

"Oh yeah Fenris, talk dirty to me" she smirked back and captured his lips with hers, softly sliding her tongue in to his mouth to play with his, ignoring the protest her spine made.

When they pulled apart she looked at him, those amber eyes smiling on their own, emotion coursing through her, "I care for you too".

It was his turn to smile then, and he kissed her forehead, "Good".

He bent down and pecked her jugular lightly before he pulled back and went to stand, "I'll go get you some food, your stomach seems to be threatening me somewhat violently". She hadn't noticed, what with being so wrapped up in him and his delicious mouth and all, but now when he mentioned it, she felt hunger clawing at her and heard a low, gastronomical rumble. She grinned sheepishly and rubbed her tummy.

"Sorry. How long was I out anyway?".

"Hmm, about a day, got you here yesterday afternoon".

"Right... no wonder I'm starving then", she raised an eyebrow as her stomach gave another guttural groan.

He let out a brief laugh, shook his head and headed out the door.

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><p>"And, here, use this ointment two times a day for the next 2 weeks" Anders lightly touched the area above the small of her back, indicating the place her back broke. She was sitting in a tight undershirt, the back pulled up so the healer could treat her injury, and his hands were relatively warm, and soft.<p>

"How come you have so soft hands? Mmh, and warm too..." she closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle rubbing.

She heard a low growl and tweaked an eye open just a hint and caught Fenris scowling from the doorway, where he was leaning on the frame, arms crossed over his chest. Anders didn't seem to have heard it.

"Hey, stay focused you twit, this is important" he abandoned her back and stood from the bed. She stretched with a delighted moan, but groaned when her back ached slightly. He handed her a glass jar, half full of a gooey, pale green substance.

She took it from him and gave him a skeptical look, opening the lid and sniffed.

"Smells... weird. What's in this?" she popped the lid back on.

"Elfroot, alfalfa, mint and some other stuff you don't need to know about. Also, you're free to roam whenever you like, just, try and keep you back from further harm, a spinal injury is serious, even when healed with magic" Anders lectured her, "and, uh, if you can't reach or something, I'm always available". He sent her a small smile, then gathered his things and proceeded out the door, brushing swiftly past the brooding elf.

"I think we can manage that just fine" Fenris muttered and went to sit beside her on the bed.

"Oh, lighten up sour puss" she pouted and sprawled herself over his lap, ignoring the ache in her back. She reached up at twirled her finger in his soft hair, "besides, _you'll_ be here to help me... right?".

She bit her lower lip and looked up at him with a questioning look. He huffed, as if the answer was obvious, "that you have to ask is absurd". He ran his fingertips over her exposed abdomen, the lithe, toned musculature evident under her velvety skin, smirking mischievously when she let out a snorting giggle and squirmed.

He feathered over her hips and she squirmed more, giggling like a child the whole time, but she didn't move to stop him so he continued over her ribs, pulling her shirt up further until the fabric was a jerk away from revealing her lush, full bosom. She gasped when his thumb attentively brushed under the curve of her right breast. Her inviting form and posture nearly made him lose control of his body's demanding desire for her, but he pressed on, gently sweeping his fingers over her smooth axilla, earning another snorting chuckle. He couldn't help but smile at her unlady-like voicings, proceeding further up her outstretched arms. When he reached the crook of her elbow she finally succumbed to the torture, jerking her arms away to press against her chest, laughing delightfully, a single tear falling from the corner of her eye.

"So you do have a weak point" Fenris smirked, idly trying to sneak up on her arm, eager to continue his thrilling venture. She slapped his hand away and stuck her tongue out at him.

He smiled down at her and instead began to trace the features of her face, sliding a finger down her nose, caressing her sweet lips, brushing lightly across her lashes, feeling the tingling in his fingertips. She mewled and relaxed once again, her arms stretched lazily above her once more.

It felt good to be this close to her, just slacking off with her, feeling her presence and breathing in her scent. He'd never been so.. content, seemed to be a fitting word. Satisfied even.

"I could lie here all day" she murmured and wiggled her toes.

"Don't I know it. But best we get going, remember? Varric said he had important business that concerned you as well" he said, caressing her jawline before sliding his hand down her slender neck.

She smiled brightly at him, a vibrant glow in her eyes.

"What?" he asked and raised an eyebrow at her.

"You said 'we'", her smile widened and reached her eyes when he flushed lightly and turned his head away from her gaze, "As if I'd let you out alone in your current condition". She leaned up and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek before she got off of him and started to dress herself in her leather armor and boots. He shook his head and got off the bed to do the same, having only leggings and a loose tunic on.

As he did the last of his buckles, Hawke walked out the door, fully equipped and ready. He picked up his broadsword and settled it between his shoulder blades and followed her down the stairs to the hall. She gave a swift, sharp whistle and her mabari hound strutted out from the library where he'd laid in front of the warm fireplace.

"Hey Moha, you ready for a walk?" she cooed at him, reaching down do scratch him behind his ear. The hound _arff_ed and panted happily at her words.

"We're going out Bodahn! Don't wait up!" she shouted in the way of the library, earning a low "Alrightcha" before heading out the front door.

The sun sat high in the sky and Fenris squinted his eyes a bit as the burst of light left small black dots in his vision.

She slightly adjusted her belt and shrugged her shoulder, the harness her daggers rested in fell into a more comfortable place, "Hanged Man?" she turned her head to look at him.

"Indeed" he smirked. They set of, walking almost leisurely through the busy Hightown markets, side by side.

* * *

><p>"You're sure you're okay Varric? And do not lie to me, you know I see right through you" she laid a firm hand on his broad shoulder, searching his face.<p>

He gave her a weak smile, "I'm fine Hawke, really. I just can't believe that my own brother... you saw what he did, what he'd become. I know Bartrand and that was not him... no matter how obnoxious and wrath-inducing he used to be". He smiled sadly, remembering a memory from his childhood.

"He won't ever be the same Varric, I'm sorry I couldn't do more" Anders said, laying his hand on the dwarfs unoccupied shoulder.

Varric shook his head slowly, "No Blondie, it's okay, what you did was more than I could ask for. I just wanted to end him...".

Hawke sensed the sadness in her friend, and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He clasped his own hand over hers for a moment then let go with a sigh, "I best be headed to Lowtown, we are still going to help Daisy with her thing tomorrow, right?". He reached down to pat Moha on the head, the hound sitting beside his mistress.

Hawke let her hand fall to her side and nodded. She bent down as Varric tugged on her wrist, letting him peck her on the cheek, "Sleep tight Temps".

Her dwarven friend turned and walked somberly away towards Lowtown. He waved a hand over his shoulder as both Anders and Fenris shouted their goodbyes.

Anders turned to her, stretching and yawning, "I better go get some shut-eye too, clinic duty tomorrow, sorry I can't come with on ya'lls field-trip, I do so regret missing the wonders of Sundermount.. giant spiders, the living dead and malevolent spirits", he smirked, "have fun though".

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a positively skeptical glare. He snickered and grabbed her upper arm, pulling her too him, nuzzling his scruffy face against her neck before kissing her on the cheek. He ignored the warning growl that came from behind her, fully aware of the elf's viciously seething presence.

"'Night Temps", he whispered, casting a quick glance in Fenris' direction, "enjoy". He smirked again, fully aware of the side effects his actions would cause, something wicked already growing inside of the elven companion. She gave him a glare before pecking his jowl. He turned then, and walked whistling back towards Darktown.

"G'night, you dirt-ridden nitwit" she called after him, earning a dismissing wave of a hand, "hmpf."

She snuck a glance at Fenris, and bit her lower lip in agitation when she saw him staring a burning hole through the empty air. She chose to remain silent, instead quietly opening the front door, ushing Moha inside, as to not wake the other sleeping residents of the estate, following behind her trusty canine. She heard Fenris follow her in, closing the door silently behind him. Not looking back at him she went on through the hallway, through the greeting-hall and ordered Moha to stay by the fireplace, where he proceeded to curl up. She started up the stairs, tiptoeing, trying to brace herself for the upcoming argument that seemed inevitable. She could hear him breathing through his nose, like a raging bull ready to charge, and could swear that if he continued to glare at her back like that she'd spontaneously combust.

She untied and shrugged of her dagger's harness as she walked through the doorway to her room and proceeded to store them in their respectable cabinet, then took her time taking of her armor, piece by piece, making sure not to look at Fenris and keep her back to him.

His blade sung as he pulled it from its sheath to prop it up in the corner of the room, and she could hear him unbuckle his own armor.

He'd make it clear to her that he had _not_ moved in, he'd kept the worn-down mansion on the other side of Hightown, but it seemed he had quietly and almost unnoticeably settled himself in her home. Not that she minded. She rather enjoyed having him nearby, relishing the thought of being able to crawl in beside his heated, smooth body at night and on the other side, waking up to his mossy, sleepy eyes and that crooked smile. Another smile crossed her face as she was reminded of the time they spent in the library before her injury, Fenris eager, but careful to take her up on her offer of teaching him to read and write, many pleasant and fond feelings filling those memories.

He cleared his throat, bringing her abruptly out of her string of thoughts. She turned her head and caught a glance of his naked torso out of the corner of her eye.

_Yum... Dammit Temperance, focus!_

She turned half a circle to face him, wearing only her longish, white under-shirt and small clothes. She rubbed her arm and bit her lip, feeling unusually sheepish. She slowly crossed the space between them, testing the waters as she gently rested her hands on his chest, keeping her eyes on his lips, mindful to not meet his stare.

"A copper for your thoughts?" she tried, lightly tracing a swirl of lyrium on his collarbone.

She had an idea of what was going on behind those dark emerald eyes. She knew she had an addiction to touch, tenderness, love. And she knew Fenris was kind of... possessive, probably rooted in the fact that he, well, used to be a slave, with nothing to his name. She could easily see the the problem, but was she ready to try and change herself for him? She'd been this way a long time, and it had served her well. Really well. But Fenris... he stirred something in her, something... carnal, animalistic, tightly knotted with passion and... and love.

_Okay, maybe I can cut back on the touchy feely stuff._

He lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips over the base of her neck, sending shivers rolling down her spine. She froze, her breath hitching as she felt his hot breath fanning her skin.

Without warning, he bit down, hard, to the point of drawing blood. She whimpered and her knees buckled as intense pain twisted with an indescribable feeling of pleasure, desire and passion. He caught her by her waist, possessively pulling her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her. Feeling her up under her shirt, digging his nails into the skin on her back, he didn't relinquish his hold on her neck, sinking his teeth further into her skin, a taste of metal entering his mouth, and she let out a mix of gasps and moans.

Her head was swimming. Just when she thought she'd loose her sanity, he let his vice-like grip go and tenderly lapped the stray droplets of blood in him, gently nursing the puncture wounds with the tip of his tongue. He suckled on the now sore spot and she let out a series of shaky moans, feeling more than a little lightheaded.

_Or maybe not... _

* * *

><p>He pulled back and studied his work. He smirked. She was his now. His.<p>

_Mine._

He finally raised his head to look at her face and an eerie feeling of animal hunger clawed at him. Her lips were parted and she was still panting slightly, her eyes were half-lidded and far away, her skin flushed and hot to the touch. Arousal filled his body and sent him straining against his leggings.

But was he sure he wanted this? He was anxious about the outcome, he didn't want to feel the same helplessness he'd felt the first time they'd been together, living then losing. But when he saw her like this, he knew he couldn't let go of her, not again. He'd be by her side, as long as she'd have him, he was addicted to her now, needed to feel her, touch her, be with her. He wanted this.

He lowered his head again and gently nuzzled the love-bite. A tingling, burning sensation blurred his mind as he remembered what happened, here, on her, only a moment ago. That... mage, so close to her, touching her, there, whispering words to her he couldn't hear. Jealousy soared through him. He knew her, how she acted, and for the most part, he didn't mind, because he knew she'd belong to him. But so did the mage, and still he... _dared_ touch her like that, and so obvious too.

A growl escaped him and he fought the urged to mark her again. Instead he drew her to him, grabbing her hips forcefully and ground them against his own, snapping her out of her daze and making her painfully aware of his... state.

"Fenris". She moaned and her hands slid up his chest and his neck to tangle in his hair, pulling him down to her, crashing his lips to hers with a feverish need. Their tongues struggled, fought a never-ending battle.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and swiftly pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly to the floor, along with her breast-cloth. His hands were almost frantic to touch her, all over, one traveled up the length of her abdomen and delicately stroked the side of her breast. A groan came from her and she pressed her chest to him, encouraging him to go further. He cupped her lush mound, savoring the soft flesh, and brushed his thumb over her nipple. She groaned again, clawing at his scalp with her long fingernails. He continued to massage her breast, shifting attentively back and forth, not neglecting neither of them.

"Oh gods" she croaked out, hypnotized under his touch, every nerve flaring and delirious, before she was silenced by his mouth once more.

Gathering her senses, she fumbled with the buckle on his leggings, but eventually got it undone and snuck a hand down the front. He threw his head back with a blissful groan as she wrapped her slender fingers around the length of his throbbing manhood. She swirled her index finger around the tip before moving her hand gently, but firmly up and down him, once... twice...

"Sweet- ahh, maker-" he muttered, nuzzling the unbruised side of her neck, making her skin moist with his hot breath.

He almost lost himself in her, not giving a care about anything else than what was happening between them, now, again. No other woman could get him all fire and brimstone with one look, one touch. There was no one like her, no one other for him. He had to have her, all of her, exclusively, even if he had to bash in heads and die for her.

He raked his blunt nails down the side of her ribcage, leaving red marks in his wake, making her stop her tantalizing movements, gasping. He seized the opportunity to pick her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and he grabbed her by her ass while capturing her lips in shallow kiss. She cupped his face, kissing him back as he carried her to the bed, going down with her as he laid her on top of the covers. He caressed her collarbone with his mouth before moving down do catch one of her perk nipples, whirling his tongue around the sensitive flesh. She moaned and arched her back, grasping fists full of his hair, grazing his already abused scalp. He groaned against her, the vibrations traveled over her skin and she arched again, making him nip her with his sharp teeth. He briefly looked up, half-expecting to see pain on her face, but she moaned instead, a explicitly delighted facial-expression with eyes tightly closed and her full, luscious lips, swollen and red and parted from his manhandling. He nipped the other one, feeling completely satisfied as the look intensified slightly, drawing a loud groan from her.

"Fenris.. p-please" she begged and threw back her head as he nipped her once more. His own need was currently suppressed with his fascination with her body and the things he could do to it, pushing secret buttons as he went. He was like a child with a new toy.

He abandoned her breasts and pressed a trail of kisses down between them, down her stomach, briefly drawing a circle around her navel with his tongue. As his mouth went lower, so did his hands, slowly pulling her panties down with them, revealing a vee of soft, dark curls, matching her hair in color. He lightly stroked through it, earning a breathless giggle. He looked up and found her biting her finger with a smoldering look directed at him. He smirked and dipped his head, letting his tongue dash out to slide up her wet, sultry slit.

She bucked her hips, muffling her own moan by chewing on her pinky finger. He growled at her and dug his nails into the flesh on the sides of her thighs, holding her firmly down. She sent him an impish look, silently promising that she'd play nice.

He held her gaze as he stretched his tongue down to flick the sensitive bud of nerves, hidden just under her silky curls. She fought the urge to close her eyes in ecstasy, but lost the battle as he slowly turned circles around the spot. Her breath hitched each time he encircled her, making her lose her breath, panting heavily and uncontrolled.

He suckled, tasting her, sweet and salty at the same time. Her legs began trembling ever so lightly. Fenris took it as a cue, and gently slipped a finger inside of her molten core. She whimpered lasciviously, curling her toes. He slowed his movement to an excruciatingly lethargic rhythm. He extracted his finger, joined it with another, and almost lazily slid them back into her. She nearly downright whined, and her lower body shook more visibly. He set a slow pace, suckling and softly thrusting back and forth. Her climax was building, heavily, steady... agonizing.

He enjoyed torturing her, for that was what it was. Torture. Breathtaking, sweet, blissful... torture. He enjoying her lecherous sounds, whimpers and moans, sighs and groans. He enjoyed how she trembled under his touch, how she was in his complete and utter control.

And apparently, so did she.

She snapped then, opening her mouth in a silent scream of pleasure, as he sent her trashing over the edge. He didn't quicken his pace, letting her ride it out for as long as possible, lapping her taste in him. She was almost silent, save for a few squeaks and gasps whenever her convulsing muscles let her breath. Her nails almost tore holes in the sheets as her hands were fisted in them in a ironclad grip.

She began breathing again, and he flicked his tongue a last time, sending a quick tremble through her and she groaned out a breath. Struggling with her heightened senses, she fumbled for him, cupping his face with both hands and brought him to her lips, kissing him slowly and deep, tasting herself.

His own need became offensively apparent, he wanted nothing more than to just join with her, completing them both. He broke the kiss and settled himself over her, between her hips, growling into her neck. He nibbled at her speeding pulse and she stroked her fingertips along his sides, arching slightly with her back in anticipation. He bit into her shoulder as he thrust into her, seeing stars as he sheathed himself entirely in her, feeling her burning hot as an erupting volcano, her walls tight around him, sending sweet bliss up his insides. He heard her moan in his ear, shivers running down his spine. He let out a ragged breath, drawing almost completely out of her before driving forward, waves of ecstasy washing over them both. Their breathing became frantically irregular as he set a leisurely pace, burying deep inside of her with each thrust, not wanting to go without her warmth for a second. Her claws dug into his hips, urging him further into her, panting moan after moan in his ear, meeting his surging body with her own, tangling her legs with his, pulling him closer until he was like a second skin.

He felt his climax building swiftly, his movements becoming frantic and wild. He felt her tighten more and more around him, moving in perfect sync with him, nibbling on his shoulder. The small jolts of pain only added to his pleasure and he was pushed over the edge as her muscles spasmed a second time, sending them over the edge in sweet rapture.

"Oh gods, Fenris!" she practically screamed. He growled into her hair as she clawed at his sides, no doubt leaving flaming red marks, he spilled himself inside her as his movements slowed to ragged jerks.

He collapsed on top of her, spent and more than a little satisfied, gently kissing her shoulder and collarbone. Their breathing became normal once again, and he rolled off of her, gathering her in his arms and she rested her head at the crook of his shoulder, after pulling the covers over their naked sexes.

She traced the lyrium on his chest, enjoying the lithe musculature of his being.

"Damn... I should make you jealous more often", she smiled through half-closed lids.

He tightens his grip on her briefly, growling.

"Easy there, stud" she chuckled, snuggling further into his side.

After a moment of silence, she amassed her nerve. "Did you... remember anything?" she asked carefully.

Stark realisation hit him. No, he hadn't. Why, he didn't know. Maybe, the last time they were together he'd been confussed and provoked, not realising his feeling for her, maybe not knowing he even had feeling for her. Maybe he'd grown as a person, becoming more of the man he hoped to be, and less of the slave he had been, not needing so much to know of his lost past anymore. He honestly couldn't tell. Honestly, he was just happy to lie here with her, and even if the memories had haunted him this second time, he knew he would not flee as before, for he was tired of running.

_No more_.

"No... I did not", he murmured, then smiled as he heard her sigh, relieved. He kissed the top of her hair.

"Please, don't ever leave me again" she begged, tilting her head up to look him in the eye.

He almost recoiled when he saw the hurt in her eyes. He kissed her full lips for a long moment then cupped her face, looking at her with quiet affection, "I won't, I promise".

She accepted after giving him a long hard look he didn't falter from. She re-settled herself, draping her leg over his, preparing for the heavy sleep she now were in much need of.

"Good".

He closed his eyes, relishing in her presence, and felt the Fade unexpectedly close. He drifted off to the steady heaving of her body, as she had already found peace.


End file.
